


pinstriped sunshine

by Emlee_J



Series: Highway Verse [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Racing, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Set a year or two after 'life is a highway', Showers, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emlee_J/pseuds/Emlee_J
Summary: "You want one too right?”Kageyama shoves Hinata under the shower spray to hide his embarrassment, which just earns him a delighted snicker. In truth, he does… sort of want one. He likes the way they look, likes the way Hinata’s in particular looks across his tanned skin. But also the thought of sitting still for an indeterminate amount of time with a needle scraping across his skin is not at all pleasant.“You can get a small one!” Hinata encourages after he pops back out of the spray. “Match my one!”“… In what world is this small?” Kageyama demands, bewildered, splaying one large palm across Hianta’s back. Even that doesn’t quite cover the full spread of the ink.Hinata shivers under his touch. “Not that one.”-An extra forlife is a highway- featuring Hinata's lower back tattoo... and hisothertattoo.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: Highway Verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883134
Comments: 72
Kudos: 478





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I MISSED HIGHWAY ;___________;
> 
> and yeah, okay, hinata's tramp stamp has been living in my head rent free ever since i first thought about it so here is me pounding a lot of words in ode to it djhdlfjkgh this story takes place about a year or two after the events of the main story, towards the end of the current piston cup season!

Kageyama rolls over in bed, squirms, grunts into his pillow, and then just sits up in one fluid, and extremely sweaty, motion.

It seems that at some point the duvet, and most of the bed sheets in fact, have been flung from the bed to the floor, and Kageyama sits there, on his side of the mattress, and tries to remember at what point the room had become a furnace. He drags his hands down his face, trying to force his still sleep-drenched brain to come fully back online and shake some memories out. Sweat clings to him all over, from dampening his hairline all the way down to pooling in the dips and hollows of his knees and ankles.

He grunts in displeasure as the realisation occurs to him – just how gross and _slick_ he feels – and he stumbles from the bed, scowling unhappily at the floor.

He stands there in the middle of the room for a moment, as his brain catches up with the realisation that he’s been forced awake from literally overheating in bed, until he finally registers his discarded pyjamas and also the distinct lack of boyfriend.

The pyjamas he has vague, heat hazed memories of struggling with in the middle of the night. Ripping them from his body and flinging them aside in a huff. The boyfriend, however – he has no idea.

“Hinata?” Kageyama calls, stooping down to pluck his pyjama shirt from the floor so he can use it to wipe away the excess sweat that still clings to him. As he straightens, he squints suspiciously at the air conditioning unit on the wall which is tellingly quiet. Seems like it’s either been switched off or just stopped working in the middle of the night.

There’s a muffled noise from outside of the room, signalling Hinata’s presence, and Kageyama pads out, curiosity starting to peak over his initial grumpiness.

The room isn’t theirs. Not their cosy – and reliably air conditioned – house in their quiet country town. It’s a somewhat fancy hotel room, courtesy of Dinoco’s rather extensive racing budget. Technically it’s _Hinata’s_ room, as Dinoco’s driver, but, well, the bed was big enough for two and Kageyama was more than happy to put Power Curry’s money to better use than for accommodation he wasn’t going to use.

They were heading towards the end of the racing season (Hinata currently has nine more points than he does, something he brings up often) and the latter half always meant hot, summertime races. There is something odd, how he and every other driver on the grid can sit in a hot car for over two hours in a full fire-proof racing suit and not overheat. And yet, standing here in a hotel room with broken air conditioning, the heat suddenly becomes absolutely unbearable.

The room itself consists of a large bed and sleeping space, a decently sized bathroom and a small living area with a television and small couch. Kageyama pads through the door from the sleeping space, down a little step and into the wider living area. There, he spots finally spots Hinata, in the corner of the room where the other air conditioning unit sits, balancing on a chair.

His boyfriend is currently reaching up to fiddle with the gubbins inside the machine, a screwdriver clenched between his teeth and another one in his hand, busy loosening a screw. He’s similarly stripped like Kageyama is – just in his boxers with a fine sheen of sweat glistening over his skin.

“Are you fixing it or did you break it?” Kageyama comments as he crosses the room, muffling a yawn into his palm. He has no idea what time it is, but judging from the pale light peeking in through the window, it’s early in the morning.

Hinata shoots him an unimpressed glare out of the corner of his eye, and he finishes removing the screw before turning towards him, spitting the screwdriver in his mouth out into his free hand. “Fixing it you prick, what do you take me for?”

“Someone who can’t stop fiddling,” Kageyama mutters, low enough that Hinata can’t really hear him when he turns back to the air con unit. It’s a chronic problem – every piece of machinery that Hinata’s vaguely familiar with he tends to poke. Sometimes it’s because there’s something that genuinely needs fixing, but oftentimes it’s because he thinks he can improve it and he just can’t help himself.

Hinata is a professional racing driver now, but the handyman in him will never truly leave it seems.

“Hold these,” Hinata orders in response, thrusting the screw and both screwdrivers at him. “Don’t lose them.”

Kageyama takes them, slightly bewildered, watching with some confusion as Hinata opens a little panel that’s loose now with the screw removed and thrusts both hands inside that, fiddling with what looks like some tubing. “Where did you even get the screwdrivers?” He settles on asking, as Hinata pokes his tongue out in concentration.

“Asked reception, duh,” Hinata replies, slightly distracted. “Hang on – don’t say anything for minute… don’t wanna get electrocuted.”

“What?” Kageyama blurts, slightly strangled, and then stands stock still, eyes staring unblinkingly, as Hinata continues to poke about inside the depths of the air con unit. There’s a small _zap_ that echoes from within, and Kageyama jumps badly, almost dropping the screwdrivers, but then Hinata lets out a pleased little hum, and he lets his shoulders relax.

Hinata snaps the panel shut with a triumphant smile and blindly motions for Kageyama to hand the screw and his tools back.

Kageyama does so. “So… reception?” He prods.

“Yeah. I called down, said the a/c was busted, asked to borrow their tool kit. People are surprisingly happy to let you borrow one if it means they don’t have to waste time calling someone in.”

Kageyama considers this. It makes… some sort of sense, he supposes. He takes a step back and settles, planting his hands on his hips as he watches Hinata reassemble the innards of the machine – putting it all back together as he finishes. It’s very satisfying, watching Hinata work, when he has the opportunity to do so. His boyfriend is quick and deft, if at times a little reckless in regards to safety, but he certainly moves efficiently.

“Time is money,” Hinata said once, when Kageyama had commented on his speed.

There’s a soft clang as Hinata reaches up to pull the main cover of the unit back across its insides to screw it back into place, and Kageyama watches the movement, tracking the push and pull of Hinata’s muscles as he moves. He lets his eyes drift, over his broad, freckle-dusted shoulders and his strong back, down to-

The corner of Kageyama’s mouth twitches as his gaze lands on his boyfriend’s tattoo splayed across his lower back. It’s not often visible unless Hinata is actually just naked, but at the moment it’s peeking out freely above the band of his underwear. The placement of it is so low it always catches Kageyama off guard – it’s brash and daring and everything Hinata is, along with being _really_ hot.

“What are you staring at?” Hinata asks, glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smile as he finishes twisting the last screw into place.

Kageyama steps up close and trails his fingers lightly over the inked skin, relishing the shiver he gets and the tiny goosebumps that dot up in the wake of his touch. “Where did you get this?” He questions, as the thought suddenly pops into his brain.

It’s not the first time he’s thought about this – almost every single time the ink catches his attention he wonders about the story behind it. If Hinata had just gotten bored one day back in the city and taken himself off to the tattoo parlour or if there was more to it than it. Did it mean something or was it just a random pattern?

Hinata tightens the final screw with a grunt and holds both screwdrivers with one hand. He doesn’t answer Kageyama straight away, instead thumping the side of the air conditioning unit with his fist until it groans and sputters and, blissfully, starts to blow out cool, gentle air.

“There we go!” Hinata grins, triumphant, “the other one should work now too. This is the ‘master’ unit, if you like.” He then grips Kageyama’s shoulder with his free hand to steady himself, and drops down neatly to the floor.

“Nice job,” Kageyama compliments, relishing in the feel of the artificial breeze on his skin and the sweltering heat of the room slowly lowering back down to something bearable.

Hinata tosses his borrowed tools onto the sofa and stretches. “Ahhh, that’s better,” he sighs, rolling his head as he lets the cool air waft over him. “But I’m still gross… shower?” He peeps up at Kageyama hopefully as he says this, already reaching out to grab at his fingers in a loose hand hold.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Kageyama replies sullenly, trying to keep the sulk from his voice as he trails after Hinata towards the bathroom. It’s something they both like to take advantage of when they’re not at home – the large, luxurious hotel showers. The one in their home in Karasuno Springs is fairly reliable for its age but is quite small, and Kageyama has bruised an elbow many a time just being in there by himself, let alone trying to share it with another person – even if Hinata is short.

“It can be storytime in the shower, Yamayama,” Hinata replies easily, and Kageyama relaxes just a little bit.

Even though Hinata has shared so much of himself with him, it’s clear there are still some areas he doesn’t like to talk about. Not because he doesn’t want Kageyama to hear them, he had been quick to reassure, but because they were uncomfortable to remember. Even so, Kageyama’s gotten used to being able to ask and normally getting an honest response, so whenever Hinata withdraws, just a bit, it can be a little difficult, knowing there’s some piece of Hinata still hidden from him.

Hinata makes a brief divert to switch the air con back on in the bedroom as Kageyama starts up the shower. They clamber in together after shucking their, quite frankly, disgusting underwear and huddle next to each other under the spray, which Kageyama has set to just this side of cool. Hinata hums happily, tilting his head back and letting the spray hit him in the face and soak his hair.

Kageyama reaches out and grabs the bottle of shampoo he’s balanced on the side tray by the water screen. It’s some fancy brand Miwa insists he uses – not that he knows what it’s called or why it’s so expensive compared to regular shampoo – and due to sheer laziness, it’s also the one Hinata now uses. It’s probably the completely wrong formula for his hair texture or colour, but neither of them can be bothered to check.

“Turn around,” he requests, and Hinata spins obediently, his happy hum increasing in volume as Kageyama squirts a dollop on his scalp and rubs it in, short nails scratching lightly over his skin.

Because they’ve both been dragged from their bed early – even if it was through faulty air conditioning – they’ve got plenty of time before the race later that day. There’s no need to rush, they can linger under the spray until they both go wrinkly, and then probably abuse the room service menu courtesy of Dinoco’s bank account.

“Story,” Kageyama nudges, literally prodding his boyfriend in the lower back, right where his tattoo lies.

Hinata raises his hands to rinse the first round of suds from his hair, and says, “It’s not a very interesting story.”

“You have a tattoo that’s like, two centimetres from your a-“

 _“Yes alright,”_ Hinata hisses, digging an elbow into Kageyama’s tummy. “I just didn’t want one that was easily visible, really. It can put clients off.”

Kageyama glances down at the artwork in question. It may be normally hidden by the hems of shirts or waistbands of jeans, but it’s not really… small. It wraps around the full width of Hinata’s lower back entirely, the edges of it curling over his hips. “Surely there are better places,” he muses. “Like your armpit.”

“My… what?” Hinata asks, bewildered. He would turn, but his hair is full of suds again, so he just shifts his weight from foot to foot as Kageyama massages his scalp. “Who has a tattoo on their _armpit_ , dummy?”

“It’s out of sight,” Kageyama pouts, a little embarrassed. He lets his hands drop and watches as Hinata raises his to get the soap out, a little furrow between those red eyebrows. It suggests thought rather than concentration and Kageyama waits – albeit a little impatiently – for Hinata to decide whether he wants to say anything more.

“Your turn,” Hinata says instead, once the shampoo is gone, and he turns to face Kageyama, palm up for the bottle of shampoo.

Kageyama places it there, hoping the water spray hides his disappointment. “Scooch back a bit,” he orders, and waits until Hinata clears him a bit of floor space before lowering himself to sit down, cross-legged. He’s found it’s much easier to just sit than it is to bend down or hunch while Hinata attempts to reach the top of his head. The last time he tried, he’d accidentally slipped when his bent knee lost its angle and it was only through Hinata’s quick reflexes he’d avoided crashing into the taps in a heap.

He feels a squirt of cool shampoo on his crown, and then callous-roughened fingers are sliding through his hair and working it in, sending little shivers of pleasure trembling down his spine.

“My friend was looking for volunteers,” Hinata says suddenly.

Kageyama hums his curiosity, temporarily distracted by the feeling of tough fingerpads rubbing against the sensitive skin behind his ears to fully concentrate at first.

“For the tattoo,” Hinata elaborates. “My friend really wanted this internship at a tattoo place but he needed some actual examples of his own work – it was a really fancy place. He’d done a bunch of drawings and worked for a small shop as an assistant before, but he didn’t really have many tattoos under his belt – just the ones he’d done on himself or little ones on his colleagues to practice.”

“Practice?” Kageyama repeats, slightly alarmed, as he tilts his head back and rinses out the first round of suds. The thought of someone doodling something permanent on his body didn’t really appeal to him in the slightest, even though he quite liked tattoos.

“It’s a tattoo artist thing,” Hinata dismisses, sounding like he didn’t really understand it either, and he runs his hands through Kageyama’s hair again, spreading more shampoo through it. “But, anyway, he needed some examples, and I always wanted a tattoo because, hey, they’re cool, right? So we flicked through his sketchbook, picked out this one, and off we went. My only condition was that it went somewhere easily hidden.” His fingers leave Kageyama’s hair again once he’s done with his second round. “I told you it was a pretty boring story.”

“Then why were you so reluctant to tell me?” Kageyama blurts out before he can stop himself. There’s a period of silence after, which he fills by rinsing his hair quickly. As he blinks the water from his eyes and moves to stand back up again, he frowns when he notices the uncomfortable expression creasing his boyfriend’s face.

“Hinata?” He asks softly as he raises himself slowly back into a standing position. Hinata isn't moving away though, once he does stand up, so Kageyama takes the opportunity to quietly pour some shower gel into his hand and run his lathered palms over this boyfriend’s skin slowly.

It’s a while before Hinata speaks – he simply stands there and allows himself to be washed, with a faraway look on his face that Kageyama cannot quite decipher. He doesn’t hurry him – they have time - and Kageyama enjoys these quiet, private moments together. It’s very easy to feel comfortable around Hinata, and even standing naked in a shower with him has never felt strange or awkward, or even that sexual at times. It’s a simple ease, a feeling of familiarity that Kageyama quietly treasures.

Eventually, Hinata pipes up as he moves to wash the suds from his body and reaches for the shower gel bottle himself. “When I say _friend…_ ” he starts, and then pauses again, brow crunched up as he thinks about what words to pick.

“Oh,” Kageyama murmurs as the lightbulb goes off. Well. Okay, he can sort of see why Hinata would be a little uncomfortable talking about it but it’s not as though he really cares – he’s the one with Hinata now, after all. “Was he, umm, nice?” He tries, fumbling for some way to continue to conversation and falling completely flat.

Hinata quirks an eyebrow at him as he suds up his chest, looking a little thrown.

Kageyama huffs irritably. “I don’t care that you’ve had partners before me,” he grunts.

“You were very preoccupied with the idea that I might be in love with Tsukishima,” Hinata points out with a wicked little smile, and Kageyama would jab at him if they weren’t so slippery and liable to break a bone.

“That was- that was _before,_ ” he splutters, flicking his fingers between the two of them to illustrate his point. _And also because Tsukishima was a scheming demon_ , he doesn’t add.

Hinata hums in his amusement and crouches quickly to soap up his legs and lower body. “He is nice,” he says, in response to the earlier question. “We’re still friends, actually – our relationship didn’t last very long, we were both just too busy. His name is Pedro.”

Kageyama rolls the name over his tongue but doesn’t vocalise it. He lets the soap suds fall from his skin before he reaches for the shower gel himself to soap Hinata up a second time. It wouldn't normally be needed, but there are little grease stains dotting his skin where the redhead had wiped his hands on himself while fixing the air con. Normally he isn't this much of an animal, but he didn't have a rag to hand this time. When Kageyama reaches his back, he lets his fingers linger over the tattoo, just for a little bit.

It really is a beautiful piece of art – the lines are intricate but also bold, the edges of them still sharp despite it being a few years old by now. “Did he get the job?” Kageyama asks as he finishes his task, but letting his eyes stay trained on the splay of ink across Hinata’s back. He knows nothing about Pedro – other than Hinata liked him enough to briefly date him – but he can’t deny his artwork is very skilled.

“He did,” Hinata confirms with a smile. “He’s not there anymore though – runs his own shop now. I’ll introduce you when we’re next back in the city. You want one too right?”

Kageyama shoves Hinata under the spray to hide his embarrassment, which just earns him a delighted snicker. In truth, he does… _sort of_ want one. He likes the way they look, likes the way Hinata’s in particular looks across his tanned skin. But also the thought of sitting still for an indeterminate amount of time with a needle scraping across his skin is not at all pleasant.

“You can get a small one!” Hinata encourages after he pops back out of the spray. “Match my one!”

“… In what world is this small?” Kageyama demands, bewildered, splaying one large palm across Hianta’s back. Even that doesn’t quite cover the full spread of the ink.

Hinata shivers under his touch. “Not that one.”

Kageyama stills, then he lifts his hand slowly and squints at Hinata’s back, trying to see if there was a smaller design next to it he’d somehow missed during all his earlier ogling exploits. But, no, it’s just the one piece, and Kageyama frowns deeply in confusion. “What… do you mean ‘ _not that one_ ’?”

“My little tattoo-“

“You have another one?” Kageyama blurts, wide-eyed. He stands back to stare at Hinata’s body openly. It’s a good thing Hinata’s not shy about this, he thinks dimly, as his boyfriend simply allows him to gawk while just reaching behind him to switch the water off. Good thing too really, Kageyama’s fingers are starting to get wrinkly.

“Yep,” Hinata replies, popping the ‘p’ and not elaborating further.

“Since when do you have two tattoos?”

“I’ve always had two!”

Kageyama lets out a little disbelieving noise and lets his eyes rove. He’s become quite… _familiar_ with Hinata’s body – knows it well, from top to bottom, and he’s never ever seen another tattoo on it. His mind whirls with the wild possibilities to where it could possibly be – between his toes maybe? Or inside his mouth, eyelids? People did wild shit like that, and Hinata _was_ a daredevil. Or, maybe, somewhere-

“Are you thinking something dirty?” Hinata teases as he exits the shower, shooting him a teasing little smile.

Kageyama’s face flushes tellingly but Hinata laughs, short and sweet, before he can get too annoyed about it.

“It’s- hang on-“ Hinata pauses with his hands held aloft, tilts his head, and then reaches for a large, fluffy white towel instead. “I don’t think you’ll be able to see it when I’m all wet – lemme dry off quick.”

“Wh-where?” Kageyama mumbles, mind still spinning as he gropes for a towel blindly. Various images burst into his mind and he has to bury his burning face into his towel, before rubbing it across his hair and skin vigorously.

But Hinata has pranced from the bathroom without further reply, rubbing his own towel over his head and humming some jaunty, old fashioned tune under his breath. Kageyama follows him, cheekbones still flushed, as his boyfriend disappears back into the sleeping area to rummage around in his suitcase for a change of clothes.

“Here,” Hinata pipes up later, once they’re both changed.

Kageyama glances up from where he’s perusing the room service menu on the sofa, quirking an eyebrow as his boyfriend leans over the back of it, so that his head falls into eye level. “What?” He grunts.

“Tattoo,” Hinata chirps, and he reaches with one hand to paw at his hair just behind his left ear. “It’s here – you should be able to see it if you pull it back a bit?”

Letting out an intrigued coo, Kageyama drops the menu and reaches out with curious fingers to gently part the soft red hair. He can see why it needed to be dry – Hinata’s hair may be fair, but it’s _thick_ , and the curls sit heavy against his skull when they’re wet. But now, dry and soft, they part easily, and Kageyama peers through the fluff of orange to the skin beneath.

And there, peeking through the strands of red, is a little golden sun.

It’s drawn in a cartoonish fashion, a bright yellow-gold circle with little sunbeam sticks encircling it. It’s quite small, only a little bigger than the pad of Kageyama’s thumb, but it still glitters a little when the light hits it just right – there must be something in the ink. It’s a little silly, but so very Hinata, small and fun and happy.

“Cute,” Kageyama comments with a little twitch of his lips. “Seems like a strange place to put it, though. I mean, I get the whole ‘ _out of sight_ ’ thing, but… _no-one_ can see that.”

“I used to have my hair shaved short here,” Hinata explains, waving a hand around the bottom half of his head vaguely. “No real clippers in Karasuno Springs though, and I couldn’t really be bothered anyway, so I let it grow back out again.”

Kageyama feels his mouth go dry at the thought of Hinata with _that_ style of cut – the red would probably stain darker, that short and close to his skin, and contrast beautifully with the brighter orange on top. “You should try it again,” he urges, and tries not to sound too eager about it.

“Maybe,” Hinata laughs, and he reaches out to run his fingers through Kageyama’s hair in turn. “You gonna shave yours and match me? I’m sure your sister won’t mind helping out.”

“She _is_ always trying to use me as a guinea pig…” Kageyama sighs, and shuffles across the sofa cushions when Hinata vaults over the back of it to drop neatly beside him.

“Hey,” Hinata says, wiggling close into Kageyama’s space, a wicked little smile playing across his lips. “If I win the race today, can I choose what tattoo you’ll get?”

“You’re confident,” Kageyama snorts. Today’s race is at one of Kageyama’s best tracks – and he already achieved pole position the previous day. Hinata may have gotten second on the grid, but Kageyama has absolutely no intention of letting his boyfriend pass him at any point today. “And let’s say – _theoretically_ – that there’s a _possibility_ you might win… what I do get if _I_ win?”

Hinata leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of Kageyama’s ear. Kageyama shivers. “Maybe I’ll show you where tattoo number three is,” Hinata murmurs lowly, his voice a purr.

 _“Three?”_ Kageyama chokes on his own spit.

Hinata keeps the sultry look on his face for all of a second longer before it drops as he bursts into a fit of giggles. “I’m pulling your leg,” he reassures, waving a hand as he wheezes. “I only have two, I promise.”

“Does it become three if I win?” Kageyama croaks, just managing to force the words out through his dry throat.

Hinata pretends to consider, tilting his head in an exaggerated fashion. “Small and out of sight,” he bargains, “and…” he pauses here. Looks uncomfortable for a second, before it’s gone in a blink. “I’d want to ask Pedro to do it.”

“Okay,” Kageyama agrees easily. It’s hard to feel that much jealousy, honestly, that Hinata would want to ask an ex-partner. It’s _him_ after all that Hinata spends every night with, races against every day, has made a _home_ with. Some part of him does squirm slightly, at the thought of someone else with Hinata, but the story is old. And whatever spark that may have been there is different now – left in the delicate, beautiful lines of ink across Hinata’s body that were placed there with care and attention.

“He can do mine too, I guess,” he adds, with an air of great reluctance. It’s ruined slightly by the upturn of his lips, but Hinata still squawks happily and lights up all the same. “ _If_ you win,” he reminds his boyfriend as the redhead starts to squirm excitedly.

“You’re on,” Hinata smiles sharply, his eyes lit up with fire, and he stands up sharply, rounding in front of Kageyama to lean down and deliver a short, heated kiss. Kageyama slots a hand behind his too-long hair before he can pull away, tugging him down for another one.

Hinata puffs out little sighs against him, small, eager little things, and then there’s a rustle of fabric as deft fingers slip under his shirt and trail teasingly across his stomach muscles.

“We’ve just had shower," Kageyama grunts.

“I _did_ just fix the a/c,” Hinata points out, eyes twinkling. “And we _do_ have a lot of time still.”

“This will not help you win,” Kageyama points out, but he lets his legs spread willingly regardless, letting Hinata slot between them neatly for better access.

“I can beat you fair and square, thank-you,” Hinata says primly and then nibbles at a tender spot just below Kageyama’s jaw.

Kageyama smirks and grips his boyfriend’s hips, already thinking about what silly little thing he can convince Hinata to have inked on his body – a little a crow, maybe, to match their home – his extra prize for his upcoming win. Hinata will push him hard, he knows, chase him relentlessly and spend every second in his mirrors, and the thought of competition and sweet, _sweet_ victory after an pulse pounding race sets his blood alight.

He does love race days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so a few people asked me about who won/lost and what the tattoo(s) would be and i... indulged myself a little more because i guess tattooed hinata has just taken up permanent residence in my brain now!!!

“What do you mean I can’t see?”

Hinata smiles up at him, a small teasing thing as he strolls out from the tattoo parlour’s back room. “It’s covered up, dummy, all new tattoos are.”

“It’s just to protect the skin,” another man says, and Kageyama slides his eyes over to the tattoo artist.

Pedro turns out to be a quiet, fairly withdrawn man who says little but is very earnest nonetheless. He’d shaken Kageyama’s hand firmly with a small smile when Hinata had introduced them - a twinkle in his eye that suggested he’d heard more than a few stories. Tattoos dotted his arms from wrist to where his skin disappeared beneath his t-shirt sleeves, and they seemed to all consist of fictional characters, bright and cheerful things. Kageyama likes him immediately. 

Pedro’s shop seems to be quite popular – he’d promised to squeeze them in, a favour for Hinata, but there was still a fair amount of people mingling in the waiting room to make an appointment or queue for their own spot. His speciality seems to be bright designs that look like watercolour paintings, there was even an entire page dedicated to popular fictional characters in the examples book on the front desk that Kageyama had idly flicked through while waiting.

“New tattoos are really itchy, so we cover them to stop people scratching while the skin heals,” Pedro goes on to explain with a nonchalant shrug. “Don’t want scars.”

“You _would_ scratch,” Kageyama says honestly to his boyfriend, and Hinata glares daggers at him.

Pedro huffs a small laugh from off to the side, apparently in agreement.

“Thanks again Pedro!” Hinata says cheerfully as they make to leave, vigorously shaking his friend’s hand. Pedro takes the enthusiasm well – it seems he’s used to Hinata’s exuberance. “I’ll promise we’ll be back once Indecisive-Yama decides what he wants!”

“The deal was that the _loser_ had to get a tattoo,” Kageyama grumbles.

(Two weeks ago, Kageyama had won the race – and to the winner went the spoils, so at their first available opportunity when they were back in the city, they had made a visit to Pedro’s. Pedro had actually offered to do a little one for Kageyama as well once Hinata had decided on what he wanted, but Kageyama had declined. It was on the pretence that it was because he was the winner, but in truth he was just a teensy bit frightened of the needle. Hinata’s explanation of what getting a tattoo was like had been far from reassuring.)

“You’re welcome any time, Shouyou,” Pedro replies with a crooked little smile, and he exchanges a brief hug with Hinata before nodding politely at Kageyama and heading back to the front desk where his next customer is waiting.

Kageyama doesn’t speak for the rest of the journey back to their hotel.

“Why are you so sulky?” Hinata asks him as he falls down on the bed beside him.

“I’m not sulky,” Kageyama pouts from where he lies on his back pretending to be interested in something on his phone. It’s a piteous ruse – he hardly ever looks at his phone.

Hinata shuffles up the bed spread and lies on his side next to him, propping himself up on an elbow. “Liar.”

Kageyama scrolls idly through his social media page that he never checks but is obligated to have for a few moments before he sighs deeply. “He called you… Shouyou,” he mumbles around pursed lips, and immediately feels his face catch on fire.

He isn’t _jealous_ – that isn’t quite the right word… Nishinoya also calls Hinata by his given name, as do some of their fellow competitors on the Piston Cup circuit. Pedro is not the first person he has heard do so. But it is just another little reminder that Kageyama… doesn’t. He often wonders if that’s weird, Hinata is his _boyfriend_ after all, and yet-

“You know you can call me whatever you like, right?”

Kageyama blinks away from the phone screen he isn’t seeing to peek up at his boyfriend. Hinata is gazing down at him with a soft, knowing expression, his eyes a warm, deep pudding brown. He reaches out with his free hand, and moves the hair that’s falling over Kageyama’s forehead before leaning forwards to place a kiss there.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with is fine with me.”

Kageyama’s toes curl in his socks as warmth fills him from head to toe. This simple reassurance – how does Hinata manage it so easily? “What about dumbass?” He asks with a smirk, settling into familiarity again with relief.

Hinata snorts and flicks him on the forehead. “What about idiot?” He returns, before sitting up fully.

He shuffles until his back hits the headboard and draws up his right leg, pulling down his sock. There’s a wind of plastic wrap around his ankle, and some sort of cream visible underneath the covering where his new tattoo sits. Deftly, he removes the plastic and moves to use his discarded sock to wipe away the cream that covers his skin.

“I thought you were supposed to leave that on?” Kageyama points out, but raising himself up on his elbows nonetheless so he can see better and tossing his phone aside.

“I have more, I can replace it in a minute. You wanted to see, right?”

Kageyama hums out a curious noise and nods vaguely.

Hinata grins before wiping off the cream on his ankle in one decisive motion and turning his foot so Kageyama could see. There, on the skin on the outside of his ankle, taking flight across the bone towards the arch of his foot, is a little crow. It’s done in Pedro’s watercolour style speciality – a splash of blue-black coloured lines arranged artfully into a small bird in flight. It’s quite intricate, despite its small size, and stands out crisply against Hinata’s skin.

(“A crow,” Kageyama had said when Hinata reluctantly asked him what his request was after Kageyama inevitably won his favourite race.

“… Alright,” Hinata had conceded. “I know just were to put it.”)

Kageyama sits up properly so that he can lean in closer, and squints a little. There, just about seen past the gaps in the ink, are furls of toughened, off-white skin that wrap around Hinata’s ankle joint. “This is… the one you broke, isn’t it?” He asks quietly. “The one with the pins in it.”

“… Yeah,” Hinata confirms, just as soft. “Seemed like the right place.”

Something in Kageyama’s heart breaks and knits back together all at the same time. He still remembers – sitting next to this man in a dusty work shed and hearing this story of a race gone wrong and a dream shattered. How the man had picked himself up slowly with the help of a small town in the middle of nowhere and slowly put the pieces back together. And then Kageyama fell into his life, and the man allowed him to _see_ , just enough to help those pieces _shine._

“Maybe…” Kageyama starts softly, “maybe when we see Pedro next… I should also get a crow.”

He says the words before he really thinks about them, but they seem just right. A little symbol of the place that welcomed him with open arms – mostly – that taught him more than anywhere else ever had and gave him _Hinata._

“Yeah?” Hinata smiles, ducking his head so he can kiss him. “You sure? Don’t think I didn’t see you go green when I told you what getting a tattoo was like, Wimpyama.”

Kageyama nips his bottom lip a little in retaliation, feels Hinata snicker against him. “I’ll manage,” he vows. He reaches up to slide his hand through Hinata’s hair to tug him closer. “This needs cutting,” he reminds him, between kisses.

“One thing at a time,” Hinata murmurs, and nudges him back to lie on the bed so he can kiss him properly.

Kageyama sighs happily and his fingers curl in the soft red curls for what he hopes is the last time – the sun still needed to come out, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on twitter! @Emlee_J


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